


self care

by fshep



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alien Sex, Fluff, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Movie, Rimming, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16250468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fshep/pseuds/fshep
Summary: “I can bring you relief, Eddie,” Venom promises. “I know what you like.”Venom helps Eddie unwind.





	self care

**Author's Note:**

> Chinese translation available [here](http://nine0613.lofter.com/post/1f1fe61b_12c5f7260).

_This place is a mess._

“Yeah? Well, whose fault is that?”

Eddie swings his foot in a lazy arc, kicking an empty can across his apartment floor. Ta-tink-tink-tink. It rolls out of sight. _Carlton Drake’s,_  Venom quips back. They also provide the helpful reminder that _Eddie_ was the one who opened the door despite a concise warning otherwise.

“Well, he’s dead, so that means you’re next in line for the blame game. And don’t pretend like a fuckin’ door would’ve stopped those psychopaths from barging in.”

At least the bodies and most of the blood are gone. Whether that’s thanks to the police, feds, or Life Foundation’s PR department, Eddie neither knows nor gives a shit. After the whirlwind that’s been the last week of his life, he just wants some peace and quiet.

Venom doesn’t respond, so Eddie chooses to believe that he’s won. The symbiote radiates satisfaction nonetheless, though he gathers that’s largely contributed to their recent meal.

It’d be easy to leech off of that feeling and enter a state of contented uselessness, but it is _really_ fucking disgusting in here, and that’s coming from somebody with incredibly low standards. So he rolls up his sleeves, grabs a trash bag, and shoves everything he doesn’t categorize as “vital” inside of it. It fills up quickly; he grabs another. By the third, he realizes that he’s got a few extra limbs extending from his sides, helping him along.

He must look like the world’s ugliest human centipede, even having Tom Six’s abomination with which to compete. Somehow, that doesn’t bother him.

“Thanks,” he says.

Venom’s response is a slow squeeze of his biceps before the black recedes.

The floors could really use a good mopping, but to do that, he’d need a few important components, such as: a mop. He settles with sweeping, even though the repetitive movement makes his back ache.

He picks up some of his shit off of the floor and compiles his dirty laundry. A few dishes linger in the sink and he nearly ignores them, but ultimately decides to suck it up and get them out of the way. They’re filthy and covered in some kind of burnt substance—likely from one of his rapid attempts to feed Venom via the microwave—and by the time he’s done, he deems a shower necessary. He’s _rank_.

The lukewarm water is somewhat of a relief. He stands in the shower for what feels like an eternity, eventually conceding to get out when Venom tugs at him.

_You need rest._

“Mhm.” Eddie scrubs the bath towel over his hair before hanging it up.

_All organic life requires time to recharge energy._

He slips on a pair of fresh boxers. “Yes, dear.”

An incredulous, lengthy pause. Venom speaks again only when Eddie flops onto his bed and stares at the ceiling with heavy eyes. _Your heart rate is elevated and your muscles remain tense._ It’s a statement, but Eddie deciphers the questioning intent.

“Still a little keyed up, I guess. We’ve been through so much action the past few days. Must be subconsciously expecting shit to hit the fan again.”

Once he voices the idle thought aloud, it becomes tangible. Although his exhaustion runs bone-deep, he doesn’t foresee falling asleep anytime soon—not with the mild paranoia that wracks him with shivers. It sucks. He usually considers himself particularly skilled at sleeping regardless of the time or place. It comes with being an investigative reporter—cat-napping when the opportunity arose, becoming familiar with unfamiliar locations. _Adapting_.

 _Turn over_.

“Huh? Why?”

_Do it!_

Bossy. Eddie obliges, settling onto his stomach and tucking his arms under a pillow. Patches of his skin grow taut—a feeling he’s come to recognize as Venom emerging from inside of him.

Thick tendrils roll over his shoulders with intent. They’re warm, and just slightly slick. Eddie quirks a brow.

“A massage?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Do you even know anything about human physiology? They say an ignorant masseuse can do some serious damage.” His arms should be by his sides, for one, and he’s pretty sure massage tables have that face hole for neck stability more than breathability.

Venom’s shadow overlaps his pillow. “ _I live inside of you,_ ” they say, exasperation coloring their gritty voice. “ _I know enough_.”

“Not particularly reassuring, but okay. Go for it.” As if he’d turn this down, noviced groping or otherwise.

Within seconds, Eddie can tell that Venom is wholeheartedly winging it, but the fact that they’re trying it all is—sweet. Yeah. They put pressure on Eddie’s shoulder blades first, but when Eddie winces the tendrils fall to the softer muscle beneath them. They pulsate, which is—weird. But not bad.

“Go for the upper shoulders and neck,” he encourages.

Venom releases some kind of noise that Eddie reads as reluctant assent; they don’t like being told what to do, but it’s clear that they trust Eddie’s guidance. 

Thicker, sturdier extensions of Venom latch onto Eddie’s shoulders and _squeeze._ The viscosity, the texture, the _warmth_ — “Just like that,” he croons. “C’mon.”

They repeat the motion, promptly orchestrating a rhythm, and it’s _heaven_. Venom is a fantastic multitasker; they establish several points of contact down Eddie’s torso and knead at his tender muscles like a cat with a blanket.

“Better than a massage chair,” Eddie wheezes happily.

“ _Damn right._ ”  

The ministrations bounce between hard and soft. Venom learns that the knots require some attention, and while it doesn’t feel particularly good to have ‘em dug out, the aftereffects are bliss. Slowly, steadily, he unwinds—melts into the mattress while his mind settles into the peaceful plane of _Venom &Eddie_.

A thinner, more cautious tendril rubs the base of his neck. Eddie moans, shoving his face into the pillow and pushing back into Venom’s touch. He doesn’t stop to think that Venom could pop off his head with a particularly pointed squeeze; they _need_ each other. Hell, they _love_ each other. Eddie can feel that trust and affection burning inside of him the same way he can feel Venom bonded to the planes of his back.

One of their hands— _claws—_ tilt Eddie’s head to the side, prying him away from the pillow. Achingly gentle, they brush away the hair plastered to his forehead. Eddie blinks sleepily; their hand is easily more than twice the size of his own head, just absolutely fucking _massive_ , but that doesn’t bother him the way it did when they first met. Venom won’t hurt him.

“ _Not unless you want me to,_ ” Venom hisses, wicked teeth against his ear.

“There’s an idea,” Eddie mutters. He closes his eyes as Venom snickers. 

It’s not just the enticement of a threat that spins a thread of heat down to his groin. Venom’s steady efforts have eased the tension from his body to make way for comfort, _pleasure_ , and he’s sure as hell starting to feel it.  

Venom’s aware of this, too. The tendrils nearest to his waist slide down his spine and press hard and hot against the small of his back. Eddie grunts into the pillow. 

“ _I can bring you relief, Eddie,_ ” Venom promises. “ _I know what you like._ ”

“Huh.” So they’re doing this, then. He doesn’t give the whole of it much consideration; physical intimacy seems unmonumental compared to the thoughts, feelings, and actions they’ve already shared. “Knowing and doing are two different things,” he goads, lips twitching into a smirk.

“ _Shut up._ ” Venom bites into his neck, and— _fuck_. Okay. No broken skin, but a sting and scrape that tingles even after they’ve let up. A passing brush of their thick tongue soothes and heightens the feeling all at once.

They back away and separate more of their body from Eddie’s for easier access to his boxers. There’s a moment in which Venom seriously considers just ripping them off (it’d be so _easy_ for someone with that much strength, like a hot knife through butter) but Eddie sends him a mental warning that these are his last clean pair. It doesn’t seem to bother Venom any ( _they_ don’t wear any clothes, so whether or not Eddie does is insignificant), but they do acquiesce to carefully slide them down Eddie’s legs and toss them somewhere into the abyss that is the Space Between Bed and Wall.  

“ _Spread them,_ ” Venom orders.

Eddie huffs. “ _Now_ you give me autonomy? Can’t you just manhandle me yourself?”

“ _Are you a fucking—pillow princess? Really, Eddie?_ **_Move_** _._ ”

He doesn’t bother asking how Venom knows what a _pillow princess_ is. Eddie’s mind is a database of knowledge—however tremendously useless most of it is—and Venom’s got full access. He wonders when they’ll uncover the wealth of tentacle porn he’s got stashed up in there.

Lifting himself up onto his knees, finally pulling his arms free from out beneath the pillow to prop himself up, Eddie parts his legs. Venom _purrs_.

“ _Good_.”

Self-satisfied little shit. Eddie rolls his eyes. 

He spares a detached moment to wonder if Venom intends to go in dry—but the appendage that circles his opening is slick and malleable, sure to press inside with a slow and deliberate push. Eddie can’t help but tense up; it’s definitely not the first time he’s been fucked, but it _has_ been a while. 

Wait. “Wait.” Venom does not actually wait, which is good, because Eddie doesn’t want them to stop. But his brain finally catches up with his dick and he glances behind him to confirm what he belatedly suspected: Venom’s using their _tongue_. “Oh, fuck.”

That’s fair. Venom must’ve accessed the memory of the first time Eddie saw their face and thought wildly _shit, baby, what that tongue do?_ in between the genuine bouts of fear for his life.  

He laughs breathlessly and it transitions into a groan when Venom keeps pushing in. It’s so fucking _long_. When he squirms, Venom wraps one tendril around each thigh to pin him in place.  

“Not going anywhere,” he chimes.

Venom responds by attaching two more around his wrists.

It becomes apparent why when Venom pinpoints his prostate with frightening accuracy and strokes it with his tongue over and over and _over_. Eddie chokes on a groan and moves to drop his face back into the pillow, but Venom wraps their gigantic hand around his neck in a vice grip. Their index finger curves over his jaw and pushes between his lips, successfully preventing him from muffling any of his noises.

Fuck it. Not like the prick across the hall has the balls to file a complaint. 

Venom had curved his talon into something soft and round, and that’s nice, because Eddie’s on board for whatever the fuck they’re doing but he’d prefer not to cut up his mouth or his lips—his certified money-maker. Venom agrees.

“ _Suck_ ,” they say.

He does. Venom doesn’t taste like much; not quite skin, not quite latex. Whatever it is, it’s muted, and decidedly pleasant. He relaxes his throat, allowing Venom to slide further in, and tightens his lips around them.

Venom’s tongue leaves his ass to drag up the knobs of his spine. They take particular care with this; Eddie can sense Venom’s curiosity—the appreciation of their differences. Humans are fragile creatures—sacks of meat suspended by some bones—but fascinating in the way that they contrast.

More tendrils (he really might as well man the fuck up and admit that they’re tentacles at this point) take the place of Venom’s tongue and snake inside of him. There are two that thrust interchangeably, opening Eddie up further and hitting all of the right spots. He hums, sucking at Venom’s finger and closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation.

“ _You’re doing well, Eddie. So good for me._ ” Venom nuzzles the nape of Eddie’s neck. “ _Mine_.”

Eddie garbles an affirmative. Venom rewards him with a soft suction around his dick—another wide tentacle. “Fuck,” he tries to say, but it comes out more like _ghhg._

Venom presses hard against him, partially merging back inside. They stretch and cover the skin of his torso, slithering to the front of his chest like an embrace. He manages to spare a few brain cells for tuning into what Venom is feeling, and it’s—a mirror of his own pleasure, redirected in ways he can’t even begin to comprehend. But knowing that Venom’s getting off on this too is one hell of a turn-on; he leaks precome all over the bed and clutches at the sheets.

The finger leaves his mouth. Venom covers Eddie’s hands with his own. “You’re such a fuckin’ sap,” he can’t help but say, hoarse. Venom growls, so he adds, “Not a bad thing, baby.”

And then he’s fucked in earnest, the two tentacles inside of him having merged into one, thick and wet. He pants to catch his breath—a futile endeavor—and rocks his hips back against it.

”I’m gonna—oh, fuck.” 

The grip around his cock tightens. Venom strokes him to completion, streaks of come staining the bedspread beneath him, and the connection between them vibrates at a frequency that nearly knocks Eddie out.

“Jesus Christ.” Boneless. Useless. He should probably kick his blanket to the floor but he’s legitimately unconfident that he’d be able to move if he tried. Oh, well. By now, he’s used to feeling sticky; it’s kind of a comfort. 

Venom covers the side of his neck in their approximation of a kiss. Eddie cranes his head to give one back, just below their teeth, and then collapses onto his chest with one of Venom’s arms bracketed around him, the other having retreated back inside of Eddie. The jittery restlessness from before is gone; he’s well and truly fucked out.

“Gonna sleep for a year,” he mumbles. “Thanks for that.”

“ _Will always take care of us,_ ” says Venom, sounding suitably satiated themselves.

“Yeah.” He grins, exhausted and lopsided. “Me too, babe.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] self care](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541651) by [thriceandonce (sylvaine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/pseuds/thriceandonce)




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